Emotional Turmoil
by watchitstark
Summary: Oh God, she missed her so much. But this was the right thing to do, wasn't it? HGMM oneshot


**Emotional Turmoil**

She hadn't anticipated that she was going to end up here when she set out that evening. The plan had been dinner, the pub and then maybe clubbing if they were up for it. It was the first time that she'd been invited out with the younger members of her department, but she had been transferred straight in as department head without having to work her way up, and initially the people she had had dinner with tonight had been betting against her. It'd been a year and she hadn't buckled under the pressure, in fact she was the best department head they'd ever had. They respected that, and so she was welcomed into the fold. At some point during the night she had got sick of her colleagues and ended up in The Leaky Cauldron nursing a Firewhiskey and wish she was elsewhere.

She found herself missing someone. At twenty-one she was the youngest head of a department in the history of the Ministry of Magic, with a sizable pay-check, a beautiful flat and no one to share it with. Her relationship with Ron hadn't worked out, how could it have when she was already so in love with someone else? When she had found herself longing for someone else's company? She sure as hell didn't know how to explain to him who it was. She couldn't explain to Ginny, her only female best friend, or to Luna whom she was sure already knew, in her own way.

She couldn't even explain those feelings to herself.

She found herself hoping that someone would show up, that the woman she was in love with would just mysteriously appear, as though she telepathically knew that she needed to see her again. It had been a year and a half since she had waved goodbye to her home, since she had taken the train away from the only place she had ever felt she had belonged in, and settled into the monotone of her life. She wanted Hogwarts back. She wanted Minerva back.

That was what everything boiled down to. She wanted, no needed, the stern but brilliant Headmistress back. She needed to go back. She should have accepted the apprenticeship; she regretted saying no every day. She regretted the look on the usually impenetrable woman's face as she had turned her down in the hopes of getting over her. She was trying so hard to forget, she truly, truly was. But did she honestly think she could? Minerva was her first love, and maybe not her last but it sure did feel that way. A teardrop hit the wood of her table with her noticing. She'd been ignoring how she felt for the last year, and though part of her had already mourned her love for Minerva, in a way, part of her had always held on hoping. She had to tell her. She had to tell her and have her hopes squashed so that she could mourn for real. This was hopeful state was benefitting nobody.

She stood up, determination on her face and Apparated right out of the bar.

The brunette stared up at the imposing gates, up at the long walkway that was covered with a dusting of snow. She felt the determination drain out of her. She felt only hopelessness and an oddly empty feeling inside. This was not going to be the happy-tear filled reunion that she had always dreamt of. The dark-haired witch had been hurt when Hermione had turned her offer down without even a reason, when she had not even said goodbye. She had done everything all wrong. She had messed up everything all in an attempt to fix her blackened, grief-stricken heart and nothing had worked.

The gates swung open on silent hinges and Hermione took a deep breath. Even the castle was urging her on and she felt an odd sense of peace come over her. She needed this. Minerva deserved an explanation. It wasn't hopeless. Maybe she could even get a very good friend from this trip. She slowly set forward, her steps crunching lightly on the thin-dusting of snow that covered the path. It was snowing now, she noted vaguely, in some far off corner of her mind that wasn't concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other. She was so nervous, but she was also more determined than she had ever been in her life. She had never wanted something as much as she wanted an end to this hell she was living in. she just wanted to get rid of it, to make some sort of definitive end.

She climbed the steps and the doors to the castle opened as silently as the gates had. She walked through the halls, silent as a ghost, and it was almost as though she was a ghost, she felt as though this was not truly happening. She wanted it to happen. She ghosted through the halls until she got to the griffin, who noticed her and opened immediately, ignoring the confused look on the brunette's face.

She faced the door, but before she could knock it also opened without a sound and she found herself staring at the woman that she had been thinking of for over a year and a half. Regardless of the late hour she was sat at her desk, busily doing paperwork. The brunette started to move forward and Minerva's head snapped up; her Animagus-enhanced hearing had obviously heard the younger woman's soft footfalls.

"Hermione," she gasped and stood quickly, eyes drinking in the welcome sight of her former student.

"Minerva," she breathed and stepped forward, throwing light on her pale face and dark eyes; sleep had been proving elusive recently.

"Are you all right?" the older witch rounded the large desk quickly, meeting the brunette in the middle of the office.

"Yes, well, no. Not really. I haven't been for some time and I need to tell you something. Preferably somewhere away from prying eyes."

"Yes, of course," Minerva glanced up at the portraits of 'sleeping' headmasters and headmistresses and led the younger woman through to a cosy little lounge where there was already a fire blazing in the hearth. The brunette sat on the scarlet sofa and smiled; it made her think of times where she had gone to see her mentor for tea and conversation and they'd ended up talking until dawn, which they usually regretted the next day. The older woman closed the door firmly behind them and took a moment to compose herself.

"Why are you here, Hermione," she questioned quietly as she turned to face the woman whom had been haunting her since her departure a year and a half ago.

"I left because I couldn't tell you, I left because I thought by hurting myself I would get over it, that I could go out there and be normal and maybe in a few years come back and be your friend. But I can't. I can't forget you and who can honestly blame me? Who could forget someone like you without some sort of tampering? So I had to come here and I had to tell you what I did because I know I hurt you when I just ran out of your life like that and I don't know how deeply you cared for me but I know that you at least saw a true friend in me, as I did in you, as I still do," she took a breath. "I had to tell you so I could put these feelings to bed once and for all."

"Hermione…"

"No, don't, please. I'm doing the talking that I should have done when I left. I tried to do the right thing by you and instead I did the wrong thing, but I suppose you might be able to forgive that considering my heart was in the right place."

"You're always forgiven," she interjected quietly.

"Thank you. I just, I need you to know that I did what I did because I couldn't bear for you to belittle my feelings. I couldn't bear for you to pass them off as a teacher crush or hero worship or any of those things. I don't have feelings for you because of what you are; I have feelings for you because of who you are. I love you. And I love you because of that woman that I caught glimpses of on the nights that we sat up talking together, I fell in love with the way that you'd sprawl out on this very sofa, your hair down and a ginger newt in your hand. I fell in love with the little teasing anecdotes you provided me with and the way that your eyes would glaze over when you thought of times past. I fell in love with the woman who cried in my arms on the night that Dumbledore died," she stood and walked over to where Minerva was still leaning against the door.

"I wanted so badly to get to know you, to know every tiny little detail," the brunette continued. "I wanted to know your favourite breakfast food and your favourite meal and I wanted to make you them. I wanted to know where your favourite place in the whole world was and I wanted to take you there. I still do. I am so in love with you no matter how hard I have tried to forget you over these past months. The last year and a half have been pure torture and I always expected the pain to lessen but it never did. Hope pierced my heart anew every week, every day, every hour. I found myself hoping and wishing you loved me too and I found that I had to come. I had to come so that all of my hope could be dispelled. So that I can mourn the what-ifs and could-have-beens without more and more growing by the day. I miss you so forcefully sometimes I'll be sitting at my desk, or doing the washing up or even while I'm reading and it'll just me in the chest, it'll wind me and I'll have to sit down. I need you to shatter my heart all over again for me. I need you to break my heart so that I can eventually mostly fix it."

"What if I want to fix it?" she whispered, looking down into burning brown eyes that swam with unshed tears.

"You, you mean…" She staggered backwards a step and stared at the woman she was desperately in love with. "Are you sure? Are you trying to tell me that you, that you love me?" she asked incredulously.

"I am," she chuckled and cupped a smooth cheek. "God I've missed you," she sighed. "You hurt me when you left. There's a whole stack of unsent letters in my desk, all of them begging you to accept the position, to come back to me. There are several in which I announce my undying love for you. There are several more where I make up a mix of steadily more unbelievable reasons for you to come back," she smiled at the young woman.

"So you mean we've spent a year and a half in utter agony and emotional turmoil for nothing?" she asked in disbelief.

"It looks that way, yes."

"That's ridiculous," Hermione said quietly. "Is there any way that I could maybe accept the position that I turned down so pointlessly and terribly rudely?"

"Of course, the position was always yours. But we'll talk shop tomorrow," she smiled. "Right now, I think bed is in order."

"This early in the relationship?" she teased.

"I mean to sleep, but we'll have to see I suppose," she grinned. "We have a lot to talk about but I'm a lot less stressed now and to be perfectly honest that was about all that was keeping me awake. I think my eyelids are drooping."

"You truly are an enigma," Hermione announced cheerfully and Minerva raised an eyebrow as a sign to tell her to continue. "Well, this is another side of you that I haven't witnessed before. Actually, apart from that time that you were trying to introduce me to Firewhiskey."

"That was a rather fun night. I hadn't intended to drink that much, but you're rubbish, seriously your alcohol tolerance needs some work."

"That was purposeful, I knew that you wouldn't let yourself be outstripped by a first-timer; I was trying to get you drunk," she sniggered.

"That wasn't very polite of you," she scolded, then leant down and kissed the brunette lightly on the lips. "I'm glad you came."

"Me too."


End file.
